It turns out that some fan fiction doesn't just supplement or replace events in an existing book/show/film; it just takes the characters (or one of them) and puts them in an entirely new place and time. This opens up a lot of new possibilities. Probably too many. Not to keep making jokes about Bella masturbating, but why does she have to masturbate on multiple planes of reality? Can't she just masturbate in one? But whatever, this is the way the world works I guess. No use fighting it. Let's assume for a minute that Bella Swan is basically the same person she is in these books, but she never met any vampires or werewolves. She's just a normal girl, who grew up and started blogging, and then got hired as a critic for Salon or something. This is what would have happened:
"Bella Swan Becomes A Film Critic"
Bella Swan stared at the blank computer screen, waiting for a flash of inspiration. She was drunk, but usually that helped. Somewhere, her cat moaned. It was probably hungry. She should get up and feed it. But wouldn’t that be a kind of resignation? No, she had to get few hundred words out first. She lit another cigarette.
The phone rang. Bella saw it was her editor calling. Fuck. She answered.
“Bella? It’s David.”
“Uh-huh. What’s up boss?”
“Are you drunk?”
“Nothing serious. So what is it?”
“Well Bella,” he had that hitch in his voice, like a reluctant scolding was coming. “I’m reading your most recent review.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Well, okay, uh, let’s start with the first graph: ‘The new romantic comedy starring the beautiful blonde actress everyone loves is a love story. The girl meets the guy and they fall in love. Along the way, events happen; people say words to each other and there is a car chase or something.’”
“Right.” Bella sort of remembered writing that; she might have been high.
“Well, don’t you think that’s a bit vague?”
“I figured people would get a sense of what I was talking about.”
“You don’t ever mention the name of the film, the actors, or the director in your entire review. The closest you come to saying anything about the craft of making the film is in the third graph: ‘Some of the shots are filmed at interesting angles which is sort of disorienting.’ The rest of the time you just write vague plot summaries and talk about how you think you’ve seen these actors in other films.”
“Well, it’s weird isn’t it? Like, that the guy from Up In The Air is also The Fantastic Mr. Fox?”
“No Bella, it’s not that weird. Not weird enough to warrant 500 words. The kind of observations you make about movies are the kind of observations most people make at age seven.”
“I guess I’m not sure what your problem is,” Bella said, opening Twitter in a new tab.
“This is your review on Iron Man 2 from a few weeks ago: ‘The hero of the story wears a suit and there are a lot bright colors and patterns on the screen. It’s very soothing to let the images wash over you. At the end of the film there is a stand-off which is kind of tense and I tried to think about something else.’”
“Uh huh.”
“Bella, it’s your job to think about the movie. You write like you don’t pay any attention to the films you are watching, and like maybe you’ve only ever seen five or six movies in your life. You have utterly no ear for dialogue, your formatting is inconsistent and when you attempt to describe action, it’s so inept that I can’t picture any of it at all.”
“Okay.”
“I just need a little more from you. We hired you because of the strength of your blog, which rarely happens anymore.”
“Tell me about it.”
“To be perfectly honest, you’re about four years too young to be a member of the blogging elite. You’ve probably always felt like you belonged to the preceding generation, but you just never got the education you needed until it was too late. There was a first class of bloggers and a bigger second one, but that’s probably it. The new media market is finally as fucked up as the rest of the economy, and you’re screwed. You should probably try and find a real job.”
“Are you saying I’m fired?” Bella was a little too drunk to care very much.
“No, you’re not. The truth is, your reviews provoke so much anger from our readers that the comment sections blow up whenever one is posted online. Ad revenue goes through the roof; our publisher loves you. You’re basically the second coming of Dana Stevens.”
“That’s an obscure and kind of cruel joke,” Bella observed.
“Normally I would say keep up the good work, but I won’t. Keep doing whatever you’re doing.”
“Usually I go to the movies on drugs or during a period of acute emotional turmoil in my life,” she explained.
“Whatever works.”
“Goodbye.”
He hung up and the cat moaned again.
Bella Swan stared at the blank computer screen, waiting for a flash of inspiration. She was drunk, but usually that helped. Somewhere, her cat moaned. It was probably hungry. She should get up and feed it. But wouldn’t that be a kind of resignation? No, she had to get few hundred words out first. She lit another cigarette.
The phone rang. Bella saw it was her editor calling. Fuck. She answered.
“Bella? It’s David.”
“Uh-huh. What’s up boss?”
“Are you drunk?”
“Nothing serious. So what is it?”
“Well Bella,” he had that hitch in his voice, like a reluctant scolding was coming. “I’m reading your most recent review.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Well, okay, uh, let’s start with the first graph: ‘The new romantic comedy starring the beautiful blonde actress everyone loves is a love story. The girl meets the guy and they fall in love. Along the way, events happen; people say words to each other and there is a car chase or something.’”
“Right.” Bella sort of remembered writing that; she might have been high.
“Well, don’t you think that’s a bit vague?”
“I figured people would get a sense of what I was talking about.”
“You don’t ever mention the name of the film, the actors, or the director in your entire review. The closest you come to saying anything about the craft of making the film is in the third graph: ‘Some of the shots are filmed at interesting angles which is sort of disorienting.’ The rest of the time you just write vague plot summaries and talk about how you think you’ve seen these actors in other films.”
“Well, it’s weird isn’t it? Like, that the guy from Up In The Air is also The Fantastic Mr. Fox?”
“No Bella, it’s not that weird. Not weird enough to warrant 500 words. The kind of observations you make about movies are the kind of observations most people make at age seven.”
“I guess I’m not sure what your problem is,” Bella said, opening Twitter in a new tab.
“This is your review on Iron Man 2 from a few weeks ago: ‘The hero of the story wears a suit and there are a lot bright colors and patterns on the screen. It’s very soothing to let the images wash over you. At the end of the film there is a stand-off which is kind of tense and I tried to think about something else.’”
“Uh huh.”
“Bella, it’s your job to think about the movie. You write like you don’t pay any attention to the films you are watching, and like maybe you’ve only ever seen five or six movies in your life. You have utterly no ear for dialogue, your formatting is inconsistent and when you attempt to describe action, it’s so inept that I can’t picture any of it at all.”
“Okay.”
“I just need a little more from you. We hired you because of the strength of your blog, which rarely happens anymore.”
“Tell me about it.”
“To be perfectly honest, you’re about four years too young to be a member of the blogging elite. You’ve probably always felt like you belonged to the preceding generation, but you just never got the education you needed until it was too late. There was a first class of bloggers and a bigger second one, but that’s probably it. The new media market is finally as fucked up as the rest of the economy, and you’re screwed. You should probably try and find a real job.”
“Are you saying I’m fired?” Bella was a little too drunk to care very much.
“No, you’re not. The truth is, your reviews provoke so much anger from our readers that the comment sections blow up whenever one is posted online. Ad revenue goes through the roof; our publisher loves you. You’re basically the second coming of Dana Stevens.”
“That’s an obscure and kind of cruel joke,” Bella observed.
“Normally I would say keep up the good work, but I won’t. Keep doing whatever you’re doing.”
“Usually I go to the movies on drugs or during a period of acute emotional turmoil in my life,” she explained.
“Whatever works.”
“Goodbye.”
He hung up and the cat moaned again.
Previous entries can be found in the directory.
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